The Call of Storms
Annatar Storm woke early to the soft pattering of rain against his window, the sky thick with gray clouds. The storm outside matched the constant turmoil he had come to know in his life. His thoughts swirled like the wind—heavy, restless, and full of longing.
The House of Storm had once been a proud name in the wizarding world, known for their mastery over lightning, thunder, and storms. For generations, Stormbringer, an ancient enchanted hammer, had been passed down through his family, a symbol of their immense magical power. The weapon was inscribed with ancient runes that amplified lightning magic to unimaginable levels. But those days were long gone.
Annatar had been just a boy when Voldemort's Death Eaters had attacked. They had targeted his family not for their wealth or political influence, but for the very power they wielded. Voldemort feared what the Storms could do, and so he sought to destroy them. Annatar's parents, his siblings, every last member of his family was slaughtered.
But Stormbringer had never been taken by Voldemort or his followers. It was kept hidden, away from the Death Eaters, as a last safeguard—a reminder of what the House of Storm once stood for. Annatar's family had ensured that the weapon stayed safe, hidden in the vaults of an old family estate, away from the prying eyes of the Dark Lord. When Annatar had survived, it was that weapon—along with the hope that his family's bloodline could be restored—that had kept him going.
The young man had spent years in solitude, honing his skills and researching ancient magics, learning the language of the runes, and seeking ways to restore the full power of Stormbringer. The hammer had lost much of its strength over the years, its runes faded by neglect and the loss of the one who had carried it—the last of the Storm family. But Annatar was determined to reclaim his legacy. His goal was clear: repower Stormbringer, restore his family to their former glory, and ensure that the name Storm would never be forgotten.
Annatar turned his attention to the letter on his desk, the owl that had delivered it now perched on the windowsill, feathers damp from the rain. The invitation to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry gleamed in the dim light.
It had arrived unexpectedly, a rare opportunity—an offer to teach Ancient Runes. Annatar had spent his childhood at Hogwarts, sorting into Ravenclaw for his sharp mind and thirst for knowledge. He'd always loved the study of magic, especially the runes and forgotten languages of the wizarding world. It was here, in the dusty corners of Hogwarts' library, where he had first encountered the ancient texts about Stormbringer. And now, it seemed that the school wanted him back as a professor.
Hogwarts had been his home once. It was where he had learned to master magic, where he had formed friendships—friendships that had long since faded in the wake of his family's fall. But the invitation was a sign. A chance to return to the heart of magical learning. Annatar had spent years isolated, and perhaps this was the perfect opportunity to both share his knowledge and access the resources he needed to achieve his goal.
He pondered the decision. The road ahead was not an easy one. He had spent much of his life alone, piecing together the fractured history of his family. His work had always been personal, a quiet obsession with restoring Stormbringer's power. But the offer to teach at Hogwarts was tempting. It was an opportunity to return to his roots, to work with scholars and students who might help him unlock the secrets of ancient magic that had long been lost.
He felt the weight of the decision settle on his shoulders. To take up this position would mean stepping back into the world of the living, a world where he had once been part of something greater than himself. It was a chance to learn, to teach, and perhaps—just perhaps—a chance to reclaim what had been taken from him.
Annatar took up his quill and, without further hesitation, began to write a reply:
Professor McGonagall,
I am honored to accept your offer and will be prepared to begin at the start of the term.
Yours sincerely,
Annatar Storm
Once the letter was sealed and sent with the owl, Annatar turned to his belongings. He had little in the way of material wealth, but the few things he did own held great significance. His magical tools, rare tomes on ancient runes, and personal items were gathered into a trunk. Yet, one item stood out above the rest.
He walked to the corner of his small home, to a heavy chest protected by powerful wards. Slowly, with deliberate care, he unlocked it, revealing the prize inside: Stormbringer.
The hammer lay there, its surface etched with runes that had faded over time. It was a far cry from its former glory—the once-raging storms that it had summoned, the terrifying power it had wielded, were now little more than a whisper within the ancient metal. But still, even now, when Annatar held it, he could feel the faint crackle of power running through it.
It was the symbol of his house, the key to his family's legacy. He had not used it lightly, only in moments of danger when nothing else would do. It had been far too dangerous to wield often. Its power, though diminished, was still immense. And if he was ever to bring back his house, Stormbringer would be crucial. The runes on it were the key to everything. If he could unlock their full potential once more, he could restore his family to its rightful place.
He carefully packed the hammer into a protective case, ensuring it was well-secured for the journey ahead. There would be no taking any risks with Stormbringer. It was far too important, not just as a weapon, but as the last remaining link to his family's ancient legacy.
With the hammer packed and his belongings ready, Annatar stood for a moment, taking in the solitude of his small home. The house had always been a reminder of what he had lost, but now, it would also be a reminder of what he still had to fight for. His journey was far from over. Stormbringer was still waiting, and the secrets of the runes that could restore it were out there, hidden somewhere in the vast world of magical knowledge.
And now, Hogwarts was calling him. A new chapter, a new opportunity.
Annatar could feel the storm building, both outside and within himself. The winds were shifting, and soon, he would be back at the heart of magic—back at Hogwarts.